persistence
by dezel
Summary: Alfred is stubborn and Ivan finds it entertaining.


_It snowed today. I typically hate winter, but because I was with someone I like, it wasn't so bad._

 _GarGoyl suggested/requested this some time ago, but I couldn't really figure out what to write. I've changed some of it, hope you don't mind!_

 _Written to **Feelings of a Boy** from the Wandering Son OST. I'm not very thrilled with the outcome, to be honest but I had fun writing it anyways._

–

The quiet is off-putting for Alfred, the lack of people and the gentle snowfall doesn't help much either. He's not much of a morning person, and even early morning is quite the miracle for him to even be up. The fog is thick, with the only light are from the street lamps that line the bridge he's walking across. For a brief moment, he slips and waves his arms around, trying to regain balance.

With a little huff, he decides this was a bad idea but can't turn back by now. His face feels frozen, and when a cold wind hits him, he curses a little bit. Alfred isn't one to break a promise, anyways. He shoves his hands into his pockets and hunches over, squeezing his arms to his side in hopes to stay warm. He had grown up in a southern state, where there was very little snow, if any at all so it's taken him awhile to even adjust.

Once he arrives at his destination, Alfred hesitates and lingers on the outside. The light from the small shop makes it look welcoming and warm, a contrast to the weather right now. Alfred licks his dry lips, draws in a deep breath and opens the door, the bell jingling above him.

On the other side of the counter stands someone just a few years older than him, with pale hair and pretty eyes. He's taller too, and at first, that hit Alfred's pride quite badly because he hadn't gotten along with him very well but now, here he is.

He looks over his shoulder, at the windows and realizes that there's still frost on the windows. The morning sun is slowly starting to come out, just beyond the horizon.

"Good morning, Alfred." Ivan greets, after a brief moment. "You are here quite early."

"Uh, yeah." He coughs a little. "I just uh," Damn it. Why is this so hard? He can't find the right words. "I'm goin' home soon."

"Oh?" Ivan feigns disinterest, leaning against the counter and inspecting his nails. "What a pity."

Alfred scowls a little bit. "Man, you're such a dick."

"I could say the same about you," Ivan gives him a dull stare. "How did you even get the okay to come here?"

"My CO gave me the okay." Alfred bites his lower lip. "I'll be going on leave, 's all."

"What time did you arrive?"

"Hell if I know," Alfred shrugs. "Before I left back to the States, I just wanted t' say hi or something."

"Or something?"

Alfred draws in a deep breath, straightening his back. He could pretend he's talking to his commanding officer, but that would make shit even weirder. "Go to breakfast with me."

"I have a shop to run."

"Get Natalya to look after it."

Ivan stares at him. "You certainly are persistent."

"It may be an American thing."

There's a trace of a smile on Ivan's face. He's more entertained by how straight forward and bold Alfred is. Generally loud, excitable, and honestly, he's almost like a puppy in every way. He'd say he pities the boy, but those traits can be endearing at times. "Perhaps. It must also be an American thing to not even be able to hold liquor."

"Shit man, I can't even legally drink in my home country."

"But do you?"

"We all have secrets," That smile that Alfred always has, suddenly seems forced. Tense. "Dude, I just wanna take you out for breakfast as a thank you." His posture is defensive, arms crossed and despite the smile, a wary look.

"Simply for helping you because you were drunk?"

"This damn city is large. I'm a simple country bumpkin."

Ivan chuckles a little bit. "I would never have guessed." He yawns a little bit, covering his mouth. "Okay. Simply because you did come all the way here, so early in the morning." Alfred's face lights up, and it certainly is cute but he feels like playing with the other for just a little bit longer. "However, I would have expected a much more _romantic_ gesture."

"Romantic?"

"Yes."

"God damn it, Ivan."

"When will you be coming back from leave?"

"Three weeks,"

"Try it again in three weeks, then."

"Bastard." Alfred wrinkles his nose. "Fine. I'll try again when I come back."

–

When Alfred had returned to the base he's stationed in, three weeks later, he had nearly forgotten that it was winter and with winter, comes snow. Under-dressed and slightly annoyed at the unfriendly reminder that he's no longer in Texas, Alfred hurries to his barracks to get changed back into something more weather appropriate.

Some of his fellow soldiers asked if he wanted to go drinking that weekend, and at first, Alfred had declined and then accepted. He has nothing better to do, he supposes. He's got no chances with Ivan anyways, who probably forgot about him. Although, alcohol is the last thing he really wants at the moment and instead, he'd just love for anything to go home and be in the comfort of his parents.

He tells himself that it will just be a few more months and he'll be home for a year before they assign him elsewhere. He just hopes it won't be out of the States. As much as he likes to travel, and learn new things, adjusting to different cultures becomes difficult sometimes. Hell, he'd be more than happy to brave the hellish winters of Minnesota.

Getting air miles, and doing what he needs to do isn't that hard anymore. Alfred hates waking up before dawn, and running laps but the adrenaline is nice.

A few weeks pass, and Alfred finds himself walking around the streets of London and it's hardly even dawn. The mist isn't as thick as he had expected to be, and aside from a few other people, it's remotely empty. Shops have not yet been opened, and the street lights cast an ominous glow against the dark. Perhaps if he were with someone, it wouldn't seem as unfriendly.

Once he feels mostly frozen, Alfred ducks into a coffee shop that's open quite early and blows into his freezing hands in hopes to warm them up. Behind the counter is a looming man with a scruffy looking face, half of it blocked off by a weird mask.

"Uh, welcome!" He's certainly not from London.

Alfred looks up briefly and nods. "Good morning," he greets casually. "Sorry for coming in so early. 's cold out there." He casually walks up to the counter. "How much is coffee here?" The man points to the large menu behind him and Alfred lets out an awkward chuckle. "Sorry." He stares at the menu for a brief moment as the man patiently waits. "You know what. Make me whatever you recommend. Actually, two of them."

"Of course!" The man busies himself and Alfred pulls out his wallet, hoping that he remembered to do a currency exchanged from the American dollar to pounds. After he gets the coffee and is rung up, Alfred pays and wishes the man a good day and quickly leaves. Maybe Ivan's working.

When he arrives to the little shop Ivan works at, he slips in and of course, there's Ivan, bagging someone up. Alfred lingers in the back briefly, and when the customer leaves, he walks up the counter and sets one of the cups down.

"Coffee?"

"What kind?"

"No idea, man." Alfred takes a drink of his own. "'s good though."

Ivan gives him a wary look, but takes the one on the counter. He sips it. "Hmm. Not bad."

"Not a coffee drinker?"

Ivan shrugs. "So, how was your leave?"

"S'alright. Drunk relatives aren't very fun."

"Perhaps not."

Alfred lets out a little cough. "So, uh. How 'bout that breakfast?"

"Coffee just isn't that much of a romantic gesture."

"Are ya saying that those movies _lied_ to me?"

Ivan chuckles. "I do appreciate it, though. Thank you."

Alfred rolls his eyes. "I gotta go. Thought I'd grab you a coffee as an apology for makin' you wait."

"What makes you think I was waiting for you?"

Alfred shrugs. "Gut feeling."

"You entertain me."

"Whatever. See you later, Ivan."

–

After that, Alfred shows up once a week with a coffee for Ivan. After the fourth week in, Alfred had started to linger around, sipping his coffee and talking as Ivan worked. Despite having sisters who help him run the store, Alfred hardly ever sees them. Natalya usually goes to school, and then when she returns, holes herself up in her room. Katyusha gives him cookies at times, whenever she appears from the back.

"You never give up, do you?" Ivan asks one day, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Nah. Unless you _really_ don't want to, I can take a hint."

"What makes you think that?"

"God damn it, Ivan!"

Ivan doesn't answer him, and instead reaches over the counter and fluffs up Alfred's hair.

–

"A drink then. We can go out whenever you want."

"You cannot legally drink in the States."

"But we're not in America."

Ivan squishes Alfred's face together, giggling. "I don't want alcohol." Alfred swats his hands away, pouting a little bit.

"Bro, I ain't gonna get down on one knee with an engagement ring."

"Perhaps if you got on your knees and _begged._ "

"You like that shit?" Alfred's eye brows shoot up.

Ivan waves him off as a customer approaches the counter, ready to check out.

–

Alfred doesn't return for an entire month after that. Today, after grabbing coffee for the both of them, once again (Sadik knows him by name, and usually has the coffee ready for him), he figures he won't even bring it up. Today, it's much warmer, a testament that spring is on its way.

"Here."

"Thank you."

"So, you and me. Tomorrow, after you get off. Coffee."

"You never seem to give up."

"I'm stubborn as hell."

Ivan chuckles. "I suppose you are." A pause. "Then, I will see you tomorrow?" Alfred balks, stepping back and rubs the back of his head. "What?"

"I wasn't expectin' a yes from you."

"Are we not going out for coffee tomorrow?"

"W-well, I guess we can."

"Then, I will see you tomorrow evening."

"Uh, yeah." Alfred quickly excuses himself, face red. Ivan has _got_ to be messing with him.

"Alfred?"

He stops in front of the door. "Yes?"

"It's polite to give your date your number."

"Err, right." Alfred forces a laugh, slowly walking back up to the counter. Ivan looks so unamused, with a deep frown and furrowed brows. He scribbles his phone number on a piece of paper that Ivan prints out and gives him. "See you...tomorrow?"

"Do you not want mine?"

"O-of course I do!" His face his red. "Sorry."

"Of course you are."

Finally, Alfred scrambles out of the store. He wasn't actually ever expecting a _yes_ , he was sort of enjoying Ivan's attention and having an excuse to actually go and talk to him. _Tomorrow cannot get here fast enough_ , he thinks once he gets back to the barracks that night.

As he stares at the ceiling, it suddenly dawns on him that this will be an actual _date_. And with his past experiences, he's _awful_ at romance. Alfred slaps his hands to his face. "Fuck!"

"Shut the fuck up, Jones!" Someone snaps, irritated.

"Bite me!"

"Both of you, _shut up_!"


End file.
